Your Cover's Blown
by winterlit
Summary: College frat parties have never been Kurt's scene, and Kurt's only braving this one because Finn has some important news to tell him. And given the air fare from New York to Ohio? This news had *better* be important. Kinn PWP.


**Title:** Your Cover's Blown**  
>Rating:<strong> R**  
>Pairing:<strong> Finn/Kurt**  
>Spoilers:<strong> Up to 3x13**  
>Word Count:<strong> 6,000

**Summary:** College frat parties have never been Kurt's scene, and Kurt's only braving this one because Finn has some important news to tell him. And given the air fare from New York to Ohio? This news had **better** be important.

* * *

><p>Kurt paid the cab driver, then walked up the driveway of the frat house. He knocked on the door and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he might find. He wouldn't normally be so impulsive, but Finn had sounded beyond frantic on the phone, telling him that he had some important news to share with him that just couldn't wait. The very fact Finn was willing to share the inner workings of his mind rather than internalising them immediately set off warning bells, so Kurt hadn't hesitated before booking his plane ticket to Ohio.<p>

"Lookin' for some action?"

Kurt scowled as the door opened. Tilting his head up, he met the red-rimmed eyes of a tall blond man wearing a blue puffy vest and ill-fitting jeans. Did college jocks have a secret handshake to obtain discount? How else could you explain dressing like that?

"This had better be good, Finn," Kurt said, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, so _you're_ Hudson's little bro?" the man said, extending his hand. "I'm his frat bro, Spencer. C'mon in!"

"Little in stature, yes," Kurt replied, "though Yogi Bear is little in stature compared to Finn."

Skipping the handshake, Kurt stepped over the threshold. The hallway was crowded like the subway during rush hour, throngs of girls and guys engaging in mindless chatter, and the speakers steadily pumped the sort of drippy, annoying college rock that made his teeth grind. The heavy riffs, combined with lyrics about lost love, complete with guitar solos designed specifically for waving one's lighter in the air, were the miserable cherry on top of the frat party experience.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to find Finn, because I am certainly not here for the bikini-clad girls and the body shots."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Um, this is Troy's party. More like bikini-clad _boys_."

"Oh, _that_ Troy," Kurt replied, gulping. How very open-minded of Finn to make acquaintance with the sole gay man in his fraternity. As though that wasn't the oldest ruse in existence to pick up girls.

Then again, Finn knew Kurt had always been fond of football players. Perhaps that was Finn's grand plan - lure him in with the promise of important news only to set him up with someone. Casual relationships weren't Kurt's modus operandi, but if this Troy had more to offer than the rest of the puffy vest crowd, Kurt might find it in himself to show an interest.

Kurt averted his eyes from the couple grinding on the staircase as he removed his coat, but before he could even ask someone where he could hang it, a light female voice interrupted his thoughts, tugging on the sleeve of his sweater.

"Isn't he dreamy?" she said, directly into his head. "DJ tall, dark and klutzy. Half the time he puts the records on, like, upside down or on the wrong speed, but that thing he does? Where he slides his tongue along his lip? Doesn't he just make you melt? He's hardly the brightest crayon in the box, and there was that time when he confused naturists and naturalists, but..."

"Do I know you?" Kurt replied, taking a step to one side before she could drunkenly wrap her arm around him.

"Quarterback, drummer, _and_ a Theatre minor. _So hot_."

Kurt whipped his head around, slightly worried that it had only taken him two minutes to find Finn's fan club. The girl beside him was petite, with waves of honey blonde hair. Slender legs, light make-up and a bright smile completed the All-American look. Certainly Finn's type. Her tacky name necklace indicated she was a Sarah, and as her hand raised her drinks cup to her mouth, Kurt realised with horror that there was a ring on her finger. Oh God. Finn wasn't going to drop another surprise proposal bomb, was he?

"That's Finn," Kurt said, well aware of his brother's impact. "Makes us all feel like we're living in a teenage dream."

"You like him too?"

"Well yes, Finn _is_ incredibly hot. Sadly, Finn is also incredibly _straight_."

"So you'd date him?"

Kurt bit his lip and felt his cheeks burn up. "Moving on! Are you two...?"

"Oh, no. I've asked him out a couple times, but he doesn't date."

"Phew," Kurt said, exhaling, then clocked the look of horror on her face, "No! I didn't mean it like that! Finn just has a history of being... impulsive, shall we say."

"Impulsive?"

"He didn't tell you he proposed to his girlfriend in senior year?"

"Okay, maybe I got a lucky escape then?" she laughed, shaking her head.

"Quite likely," Kurt replied. "Do you know where he is?"

"DJ booth or foosball table," she said, then shot him a wink. "Glad you're wearing pointy boots, 'cause you'll need all the help you can get to battle through his groupies."

"Thanks for the advice," Kurt said, more curt than he'd intended.

If Finn Hudson had dragged him all this way to make him listen to Springsteen mash-ups or play table football, he was going to wring his neck with his bare hands.

000

On his way back from the drinks table, cloying elixir of rum and Diet Coke in hand, Kurt found the DJ booth. Well. DJ table, to be more precise. As predicted, Finn was there, swaying to the beat. His eyes were tightly closed but his smile was wide, teeth glimmering, as white as the tank top he was wearing. His arms were folded behind his head, and it was clear Finn's admirers weren't cheering due to the atrocious Journey song playing.

Worst of all, Finn looked that good without any semblance of a routine. He didn't even rub the sleep from his eyes before leaving the house in the morning.

As Finn's fingers drummed against the table like drunken spiders, Kurt couldn't remember the last time he'd looked so happy. Yes, Kurt surmised, raising his drink to his lips. This was definitely a set-up. Finn was _dead_ to him. Yet, his wide smile was so infectious, Kurt couldn't help but return it.

"Checking out the goods, huh?"

"What?" Kurt took a deep breath before exhaling, knowing subtlety wasn't his strong suit. "Oh no, no. I wasn't looking at Finn."

"Oh, so you _were_ looking at me! Impeccable taste. I'm Troy. You're Kurt, right? The F-Meister was telling us you and your high school boyfriend broke up recently."

"The F-Meister?" Kurt was unable to choke back a laugh and, okay, Troy was somewhat cute, in a young Taye Diggs way. Not Kurt's usual type, but Mercedes and Tina would certainly have approved. _Not_ that that made Finn's matchmaking attempts okay. "And yes, I have."

"So single and ready to mingle?"

"Just single," Kurt replied, running the tip of his finger along the rim of his cup. "I'm not particularly inclined to mingle."

"So can I buy you another drink, or do you just want the money?"

Kurt spluttered, only becoming aware of how wide open his eyes were they began to water. That line wouldn't have worked coming from Jensen Ackles.

"You don't buy drinks at a house party, you ignoramus."

"Sassy _and_ sexy. You remind me of that Rachel chick your brother used to date. Prissy as hell, but man they were loud. Must have clamped Hudson like a vise," Troy said, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt didn't know what it was like to have a frozen snail crawl over his bare flesh, but imagined it would bring about a similar sensation.

Kurt firmly grabbed Troy's hand and placed it back by his side. "That's my best friend you're talking about, you oaf. I'm going to talk to the wall now, which will be an infinitely more challenging conversationalist."

"Shame." Troy winked, and grabbed his own crotch. "There's a perfectly good conversationalist here, and I'm _always_ up for a challenge."

Glancing in Finn's direction, Kurt opened his eyes wide, pleading for rescue, but Finn was still obliviously lost to the beat. Kurt stared down into his drink, feeling more than a little disappointed that he'd come several hundred miles west only for his brother to set him up with Noah Puckerman's gay expy.

"It's not like I'm looking for lasting love," Troy said. "If I wanted a fling, _I'd_ be interested in me. I'd totally get up in my saddle."

Troy winked at him again, and Kurt shuddered, realising he was about to be on the receiving end of a ridden hard and put away wet quip. He wondered if he still had Sebastian's number, whether it was stored under Eau d'Craigslist or Timon. It would be selfish of him not to introduce two people who were so clearly soul mates.

"So you and Finn are close?"

Kurt nodded as he took a sip of his drink, happy to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"Oh, you're _close_ close. So if I get one, does the other come half-price?"

Kurt spluttered, spraying a mouthful of drink on the floor. He looked behind him, wondering if there was a secret passage behind the trophy cabinet he could use to slink upstairs. Ideally until Finn's Neanderthal frat buddies had passed out from alcohol poisoning - which if Troy's unsteady sway was any indication, wouldn't be long.

"Not funny, bro." Kurt breathed a sigh of relief as a hand that was so large it couldn't belong to anyone else was placed on his shoulder. "This one's off limits."

"Shame," Troy said. "Though if my boyfriend was that hot, I don't think I'd share."

"I said, back off."

"No need to worry, Finn," Kurt said, placing his hand against the small of Finn's back. "Troy here's just overcompensating for his steroid abuse."

"Totally like A-Rod, dude," Finn said, nodding resolutely, making a crude pinching gesture with his fingertips.

Surprisingly, that was all it took for Troy to shake his head and start scanning the crowd for his next target, and all it took for Finn to envelop Kurt in a tornado of flailing arms and... mmm, Kurt thought, smelling something other than the room's stale beer and desperation, was that Calvin Klein?

"Kurt!" Finn said, squeezing so tightly Kurt swore he was going to burst at the seams. "You made it!"

"Starting to wish I hadn't," Kurt muttered.

Finn chuckled. "Oh, Troy's harmless. His bite's worse than his bark, or whatever. Anyway, wanna dance?"

"I drop my weekend plans and lose several hundred dollars from my clothing budget because you have something important to tell me and you 'wanna _dance_'?"

Granted, Kurt's weekend plans had mainly involved picking out some new audition songs and eating his own body weight in popcorn while Rachel was out on yet another date, but given Finn's college lifestyle, he didn't feel particularly inclined to share that tidbit of information.

"Please?" Finn said, Kurt trying not to notice how his shirt clung to his biceps, and how a few damp strands of hair clung to his forehead. "C'mon, man. I've missed seeing your smile."

"Drop the act," Kurt said. "I'm not one of your entourage. I'm surprised they didn't steal your underwear on your way over here."

"What makes you think I'm wearing underwear?" Finn said, raising his eyebrow, and Kurt laughed, in spite of himself. He'd missed seeing Finn's smile, too.

000

Five or six songs later, and Kurt was beginning to wonder if Finn's important news was that he'd acquired a starring role in his college's adaptation of The Artist. The silence had been comforting at first, Kurt enjoying Finn's arms wrapped around his back, but Finn hadn't been this quiet since his last bout of laryngitis.

"Hey, Kurt?" he murmured softly.

"Hm?"

"What's my favourite sandwich?"

Ah. With Finn, the precious moments never did last. His brother was likely one more non-sequitur away from a beer-induced psychotic break.

"What is wrong with you, Finn?"

Finn chuckled throatily. "Um, lots of stuff? Anyway, answer the question, man."

"Anything with bacon," Kurt said, trying to suppress the feeling he was starring in a particularly tolerant version of a Mr. and Mrs. game. Then, he decided he had a prime opportunity to make Finn squirm. "And what's mine?"

"Nutella," Finn answered, not missing a beat. "On those fancy French dinner rolls."

Kurt blinked, twice. Finn had served his vegan ex-girlfriend steak and all-butter pound cake for a romantic dinner. He'd sent Kurt a birthday card in March, once, confusing it with May. Then again, Finn probably only remembered because the previous Thanksgiving, he'd complained to Burt that there was no need for Kurt to keep the nutella jar in his room because the large thumbprint in it _totally _wasn't his. It was certainly in Finn's nature to remember the trivialities and forget anything practical.

"Impressive, Finn. And where are we going with this?"

"We're like nutella and bacon," he said, his eyes sparkling like he'd just discovered a new chemical element and was anticipating a Nobel Prize. "We're like, Epic Meal Time. See?"

"No, I really don't."

"Don't you get it, Kurt? Nobody would ever think to put us together, or expect us to work well together, but we do! At least I _think_ we could work really well together."

"Of course we work really well together. Do you think we're drifting apart these days, Finn? Is that why you wanted me here?" he said, sighing. "You do realise I'm perfectly happy to see you on my own volition."

"Well, yeah, though it feels like we don't see each other at all these days, but -" Finn started, shaking his head. "Never mind."

Kurt was going to get to get to the bottom of this, because there was always logic behind those confused expressions of Finn's, and there wasn't much chance of Finn's brain articulating what was on his mind. Finn might be less boyish these days, his jaw stronger, his smile more confident, but his self-doubt remained.

After a few minutes, Finn cleared his throat. "So, Sarah says you think I'm hot."

"And what gave her that impression?" Kurt said, stepping back, hands on hips.

"Because you told her I was?"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Hot straight quarterback," Finn said, finger reaching out to tap the end of Kurt's nose. "And earlier, you were totally checking out my arms."

Kurt batted Finn's finger away with a hiss. "Was not!"

"Was too. You're checking them out now."

Kurt looked away. It was hard _not_ to check Finn out. Kurt had made his peace with that back in high school, though. The chances of anything happening with Finn were as remote as Blaine wearing socks, or Mercedes giving up carbohydrates for Lent.

"Wanna touch 'em, Kurt?"

Wait. Had Finn realised that, beneath the put-downs and brotherly banter, Kurt still wanted him? Oh, no. Kurt had to make his exit now, and he didn't particularly care if it was dignified or dramatic. If the frat house should happen to have a trap door in the floor, he could work with that.

Kurt eyed Finn warily, hoping this wasn't a trap. He gently rested his hand on Finn's bicep, feeling powerful muscles flex under his touch. An image of Finn's arms pinning him down, brown eyes locking onto his, briefly flashed through his head and he snatched his hand away, as though he'd placed it on a hotplate.

"Hm," Kurt said, because he _did_ still want Finn. Blaine's body had never given him cause for complaint, but Finn's strong, tall body had always carried allure. Granted, he hugged you like a sweaty lamprey, but his pull-up bar and weight training clearly paid dividends.

"I don't build muscle like other guys," Finn said, his smile dipping down a little. "Sorry."

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with your body."

"Still the hot straight quarterback?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I really regret saying that. You'll still be bringing this up when I'm eighty and incontinent, won't you?"

"Um, no. I keep bringing it up 'cause it's not true."

Kurt groaned. "Finn, how can you not think you're hot? You have a fan club on Facebook! That sorority girl over there all but has your name tattooed on her lower back. I thought we'd worked through this!" He paused, Finn still looking like he didn't believe him. "Fine. Yes, you're hot. And I am never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

Finn scrunched his hands in his hair. "Dammit, Kurt. That's not what I meant!"

Kurt crinkled his nose. Finn was on the football team, wasn't he? That girl had said so earlier, so… oh. Suddenly, Kurt's stomach flipped over in realisation and he wrapped his arms tightly around Finn, pressing his head into his chest. He could feel Finn's heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt, feel so much heat radiate from his body. Looking up, there wasn't any hint of the confident demeanour from earlier, Finn's face etched with nothing but fear.

"Is this some sort of two beer queer act," Kurt said, digging his fingernails into his palm to stop his hands from shaking. "Because that's older than Joan Rivers."

"No, uh… I really like you, Kurt. _Like_, like you Kurt. God, I'm so scared about messing this up I haven't even had _one_ beer." Kurt swallowed as Finn took a step back, resting his hands against the wall. His eyes bored into Kurt's as he took a deep breath, his own fingers drumming against the wall. "I thought you'd get it, me being in DLP?"

"DLP?"

"Delta Lambda Phi," Finn said, averting his eyes from Kurt's gaze. "We're, uh, not all gay, but, um, we're a frat for open-minded guys," he said. "I kinda joined because you know, open-minded. Rush week, right? I got major league wasted and ended up making out with a guy and I guess I got a little _more_ open-minded."

"How romantic," Kurt said, unable to hold back a snort, Finn's expression indicating he couldn't quite believe it had happened himself. "So you're telling me you're gay?"

Finn shrugged. "Dunno. Santana told me labels were for fashion victims, and Brittany said I was an omnivore.

"You confided in Brittany and Santana?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Finn said, reaching his hand out and tracing a finger down Kurt's arm. "Wanna go upstairs?" he offered, but his voice contained no bravado.

Kurt shook his head. "I can't," he said, worrying the hem of his sweater between his thumb and index finger. "We can't do this to Carole and Burt."

Finn snorted, placing his hand against Kurt's chest. "That's your reason? Kurt, they know. I could never put this between us and Burt. After what went down with Rach, they were pretty okay with this. I mean, it's not like I asked Burt if we could elope."

"Touché," Kurt replied, unable to hold back a grin. Finn's proposal was over three years ago; Rachel was open these days about how she wasn't ready and never would be, but even though she'd had several boyfriends since, Kurt suspected there were still some feelings she hadn't buried. Finn wasn't easy to get over, Kurt realised, his heart thumping in his chest. "Rachel! What's Rachel going to do? Oh God, she'll -"

"Rachel knows, man."

"What? Rachel _knows_?"

"Yeah, Rachel knows I'm gay for you." He shrugged. "You know Hiram's always been super fond of me, and the guy can't keep his mouth shut after he takes his Ativan, and we'd had a few drinks and it kinda slipped out that I liked you liked you, and it's not my fault Rachel's hearing is, like everything else, pretty damn perfect, it's not like I'd _intended_ on it, and..."

"Breathe, Finn." Kurt paused, stopping his babble that always belayed Finn's confident exterior. "Wait, Rachel doesn't mind? You're, you're gay for me?" Then, Kurt felt slightly queasy, lowering his voice. "And why didn't Rachel tell me? Why am I the last to know this? How long have you felt this way?"

"Long enough," he mumbled. "Rach said it would have been easier for all of us if I'd made a move in high school." Then, Finn licked his lips. "Can I kiss you?"

"Not going to serenade me with The Only Exception?" Kurt said, knowing this couldn't end well, but also that Finn wasn't joking. His expression was a mirror of the one Kurt had worn back in high school, wide open eyes and a trembling bottom lip, and this wouldn't end well whether he did or didn't acquiesce. The voice echoing in the back of his brain, sounding a lot like his sixteen year-old self was screaming at him, swarming around him, and the fact Finn Hudson wanted to kiss him, _him_, circled round his head.

"That was sorta my plan b," Finn admitted, staring down at the floor. Then, he closed the distance between them, placing his hand around Kurt's waist. "But, yeah. What others hide in shame? We boldly embrace with pride."

"How profound," Kurt snorted, wondering which motivational cat macro Finn had found that line from. "Please don't tell me that's a Finn original."

"Nah," he said, his dimples winking at Kurt as he smiled, his expression playful. "That's the DLP motto. _This_ is a Finn original."

And without a beat, Finn slid one of his arms around Kurt's back, pulling him close and they were kissing. More accurately, Finn was kissing _him_, the soft wet slide of his lips surprisingly gentle. There was nothing frantic about it, Finn's kisses measured and careful. Planned, even. And more than sumptuous.

Finn pulled away, then pressed a chaste, dry kiss against Kurt's lips before smiling softly and placing his palm on Kurt's shoulder.

"So?" Finn said, smile tilting up hopefully at the corner.

"It's not as though the world stopped," Kurt replied, not wanting to tell Finn that yeah, it felt more than a little like the world _had_. Finn's lips on his had faded away the pounding beat of the music and the inane white noise of party chatter until it felt like they were the only people in the room.

"Fireworks, right?" Finn said.

Kurt sighed. Talk about clichéd. "Okay, perhaps there were a few," he said, drinking in the expression on Finn's face as Finn closed his eyes and pursed his lips, inviting Kurt in for another kiss.

In high school, Kurt often imagined Finn in these moments. It was a toss up as to whether he'd run away and vehemently deny what had happened, or fall head-over-heels, professing his undying love through a series of ill-thought metaphors as gifts.

Well, Kurt realised, as he slid his thigh between Finn's and backed him against the wall, their lips meeting in a kiss that was so dirty Kurt felt shivers to the tips of his fingers. He'd never have to wonder again.

000

"We need to have a serious talk about this tomorrow," Kurt said, his voice weak to his own ears as Finn's lips nuzzled the spot just behind his ear lobe.

"Not tomorrow yet, though," Finn said, his voice a low whisper as he pressed a line of kisses across Kurt's cheek before kissing him again, hands reaching up to cup his jaw.

Kurt nodded, whimpering in the back of his throat as Finn looked into his eyes again, his pupils dilated. Was making out all Finn wanted? Kurt shifted his thigh a little, steadying himself, and Finn groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, Kurt feeling the unmistakable press of his erection. Finn's hands were slightly clumsy, mapping every inch of his body, and slowing down clearly wasn't an option for either of them.

"_Oh_," Kurt gasped, biting his lip as he felt Finn's fingertips dance across his collarbone. "Let's... let's go upstairs."

"You sure, Kurt?"

Kurt worried his bottom lip with his front teeth; this was the point of no return, but the moment he met Finn's eyes again, he knew his answer. Nodding, Kurt leaned forward, shifting his knee again and licked his lips so he could press a wet kiss against Finn's neck, Finn's pulse beating heavily under the sweep of his tongue.

"Are you sure, Finn?"

Finn's answering smile was as beautiful and wide as a sunrise. He took Kurt's hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he led him upstairs. The soft circles he rubbed against Kurt's hand with the pads of his thumb reassured Kurt as they wove around the people on the staircase and Finn pressed him against a door, kissing him messily again before nudging it open with his knee. Kurt's field of vision was a blur as Finn spun him around and he dimly heard the slam of a door as Finn latched his mouth onto his neck, lightly nipping it, teasing the skin there with his teeth.

"Finn, Finn, the door, you need to lock the... _oh_," Kurt said, fumbling his hand across, trying to reach for a lock, wondering if the door even _had_ a lock, feeling a moment of triumph when he found it, cool and sharp against his hand.

Then, Finn's lips locked on his jaw, a frantic slide across his cheek until they met his mouth, hands tangling tightly in his hair and rubbing roughly at his scalp. The only softness about it was Finn's warm palm, tenderly cupping his jaw, a gentle juxtaposition to the desperate flicks of his tongue.

"Knew it," Finn said between kisses. "Knew you'd be amazing, Kurt. You're... you smell so fucking good. _Fuck_. Wanted to tell you for so long."

"Then why didn't you?" Kurt managed to roll his eyes as Finn reached down to loop his fingers in Kurt's jeans, pulling their bodies together. "You smell like the world's worst Harlequin romance," he said.

Finn's nose wrinkled as he sniffed the air. "But you got me this aftershave for Christmas, Kurt!"

Kurt shouldn't have found that charming, or hot, but Finn's eagerness to please combined with his voice choking over the syllables of Kurt's name was intoxicating. Kurt could feel the heat from Finn's skin, he'd placed his hand against Finn's clothed back when they'd started kissing, but he needed more. Taking a deep breath, he slid his hand under the fabric. Finn's back was yards of soft skin over strong, firm muscles and Finn arched into his touch as Kurt traced his finger alone his spine.

"Romeo has nothing on you, Finn. If you dare say this is 'just like making out with a girl' you'll be sleeping alone tonight," Kurt murmured.

Finn licked his lips. "Your hard-on's pressing against my thigh, Kurt," he said, reaching up to tug at the sleeves of Kurt's sweater, Kurt shivering slightly as Finn tossed it to one side, licking his lips like he was unwrapping a particularly wanted present. "I'm very glad I'm not making out with a girl," he said, then splayed his hand across Kurt's chest, right over where his shirt pocket was.

Was he trying to feel Kurt's heartbeat? His eyes were so intense and his expression so devoted in that moment that Kurt couldn't quite bring himself to say his heart was on the other side of his chest.

"I want you so bad," Finn said, Kurt hissing as his fingers skimmed the zipper of his pants. "Want to feel you, taste you."

"Please," Kurt said, breath catching in his throat. "Do you, do you want to lay down on the bed?"

Finn shrugged as Kurt placed his hand over his and moved Finn's fingers back to his zipper, giving Finn permission to remove his pants. As cool air hit Kurt's skin, he barely heard Finn's gasp, so quiet it was almost imperceptible.

"You want me to kneel? Or lay down?" Finn said, waving his hands apologetically. "I dunno, I mean," he coughed a little, placing his hands back around Kurt's waist. "I haven't been on the, uh, giving end before."

Kurt wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. Telling Finn that he didn't have to if he didn't want to wasn't going to be helpful, because Finn wouldn't have suggested it, wouldn't have _oh shit_, one hand dipping into Kurt's underwear if he was having second thoughts.

"Go sit down in my chair, Kurt," he said, his palm warm as he cupped Kurt's erection, squeezing a little too tightly at first then skimming his fingers more gently, his gaze penetrating, Kurt realising he was quick to read the cues from his expression.

As Kurt sat down in Finn's chair, the feeling of the upholstery, rough against his bare skin, was all that grounded him in reality. It was barely twenty minutes ago that Finn had kissed him, told him he liked him, and everything was already dream-like, fading at the edges. Soon, Finn was on his knees in front of him, wearing nothing but his shirt, shoulders flexing as he traced his fingers over Kurt's thighs. Kurt hissed, raising his hips and hooking his fingers in his underwear, removing it and tossing it aside. Kurt echoed Finn's gasp, as warm breath ghosted across his erection.

"You're beautiful, Kurt," he said, without a moment's hesitation.

Kurt groaned again and wove his hands into Finn's hair, threading it between his fingertips, sinking into the chair as Finn's lips brushed the head of his cock. It was sloppy, and unpracticed, but Finn soon found his rhythm. His tongue was a steady flicker against him and the room was cool, cool enough for Kurt to see Finn's nipples harden under the fabric of his shirt when he looked down. Kurt felt his cock twitch, thinking about how much he wanted to run his hands over Finn's broad chest, how the salt and sweat of his skin would taste. How his hard nipples would feel under his tongue.

Then, Finn's mouth slid down his shaft, warm and wet, and Finn was murmuring around him, breathing through his nose, desperate to take in everything. Kurt shivered, his breath coming as an unsteady rush of air as he met Finn's eyes. They seemed deeper and blacker in the darkness of the room, whites brighter than the moon. Reaching down, Kurt clenched his hand in the fabric of Finn's shirt, needing purchase, needing to hang on to whatever he could as Finn traced his fingertips across the indent of his hipbone.

Kurt had to look away. Watching himself slide into Finn's mouth, watching Finn's cheeks hollow was almost too much. Yet, closing his eyes just intensified everything. The wet slap of mouth against his skin; Finn's erratic breathing; the noise Kurt's own fingers made as they tapped on the arm of the chair.

"Finn, I'm..." Kurt managed to stutter out, but Finn just sucked harder, sliding the tip of a finger up the cleft of his ass, pressing firmly against his perineum. Kurt tightened his hands in Finn's hair, the flick of Finn's tongue against the slit of his erection and firm, steady circles of his finger undoing him.

"S-stop," Kurt said, willing himself to speak, feeling so full, so close, but Finn didn't, placing his hand firmly on Kurt's stomach, holding him as he came. Wiggling his toes, Kurt pushed Finn's head away. His thighs were trembling, sore, and it was too much. It felt like he was emerging from underwater, dissociated from the room as the blood rushed back to his head. Dimly, he heard the erratic slap of Finn's fist and through one open eye, he watched Finn's face crease up as he came into his own hand, biting down tightly on his lip.

"I would have..." Kurt started, pondering both Finn's reaction time and whether there were any supplies in his bedside drawer, but Finn looked as sated as Kurt felt.

"Yeah, but I couldn't wait," Finn said, his shoulders shrugging lazily. His cheeks were flushed with a dark bloom, his eyes half-open. Debauched didn't even begin to cover the sight of Finn licking a stripe of his own come from his hand. "You know how it is."

Kurt nodded, his heartbeat beginning to slow.

"So, on this occasion you're not gonna get mad at me for overstacking on protein supps, right?"

"Finn!" he said, laughing until his stomach began to cramp. _That_ had never been in any of his fantasies, but then again, none of this had.

"Kurt? Did I do okay?" Finn said, brows furrowing slightly.

"Fairly proficient, but I shan't say no to you practicing more," Kurt replied, and Finn briefly looked wounded before laughing back at him. "More than okay. I think you melted me."

"Good. Wanted to," Finn said, walking across to the bed and wiping his hand on his shirt before removing it and throwing it on the floor. "That was, like... a revelation, dude."

"You've given a blow job, Finn. Not gone on a walkabout." Kurt fumbled on the floor for his underwear then followed Finn across the room and sunk down on his bed, which seemed uncharacteristically free of detritus. "And that reference flew over your head."

"Pft, I know what a walkabout is, dude! The first season of Lost was just killer, right?" Finn paused, as though seeking approval. "Right?"

"Right," Kurt said, pushing Finn lightly in the chest. "Let's... let's just be quiet for a while, okay?"

Finn said nothing, but flopped on the bed and leaned towards Kurt, kissing him again. Kurt could taste the tang of himself, of Finn, on Finn's tongue. _That_ was a new experience.

_All_ of this was a new experience. One which Kurt was dying to repeat.

As they broke away, Finn's expression was calm. There wasn't any awkwardness involved. Finn hadn't made an excuse to go back to the party; he hadn't fumbled for his jeans and bolted down the hallway.

It was so comfortable Kurt almost felt compelled to pinch himself. He'd always known they were drawn together like there was an invisible wire connecting them - a _tether_, Finn had called it, because Finn was an utter dork - but Kurt had always assumed that after Rachel, Finn would want someone less, well, high-maintenance. And, truth be told, female.

Then again, Kurt had always assumed he'd end up with someone book-smart and sophisticated.

"So remember that time I helped organise my cousin's birthday party in senior year, and Boobles the Clown wasn't a kid's entertainer? And you told me I couldn't plan something if my life depended on it?"

Kurt laughed, curling back into Finn's side as a strong arm was slung across his waist, fingertips lightly stroking his hipbone. Book-smart was incredibly overrated. "Yes, I do recall Carole made you do your own laundry for a week after that," Kurt said, smirking at the memory. "You also told everyone at McKinley you dyed your shirts pink for breast cancer awareness."

"So this proves I totally can follow a plan, right?"

"What do you mean?" Kurt slapped his hand to his forehead. "Wait, all your friends were _in_ on this?"

"Maybe?" Finn said, sounding small but not particularly embarrassed or, dare Kurt say it, repentant. "So, yeah. I knew you'd come visit if I asked, but I didn't know if you liked me, so I got Sarah and Troy to find out. Um, I'm not sure what I would have done if you didn't. So it's a good job you did, huh?"

"_That_ was your plan? How very fourth grade of you," Kurt said, with a shake of his head, unable to believe he'd fallen right into a trap from Finn, of all people. He turned over, poking Finn in the chest. "Next you'll be making me cards from construction paper. I'm sure if you ask Carole nicely, she'll cut the heart out for you but if not, Finn, you could always put a Lisa Frank activity set on your birthday list."

Finn frowned, a silvery shimmer of sweat still visible on his forehead. "Bad idea. I'd probably just get high on the craft glue fumes."

"That's precisely why; the blackmail potential would be fantastic."

Then, Finn paused, his eyebrows knitting together. "Did you want a card? Is, is that what you guys do after this kinda thing?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "So I heard you like to suck dick? Curiosity: it's not just for college girls?"

"Hallmark make those?"

"Yes, Finn. Hallmark make those."

"Cool!" Finn just smiled at him, his fingertips a warm brush against Kurt's collarbone. "Um, yeah, so they don't, should but don't, but whatever. This is all I need."

"I... I genuinely never thought you'd have it in you, Finn."

"Oh, no. No. Um, I really like you, but I won't be down for that a while. Um, no offence."

"None taken," Kurt replied, the day's events knocking a sarcastic reply out of him. He glanced at the bright red digits on Finn's alarm clock. Just gone eleven. Not quite bedtime, perhaps, but he didn't really want to make it back to the party. Although given what he knew of Finn's roommates, he was at least going to keep his underwear on lest the fire alarm go off at 3am.

"You gonna make me waffles tomorrow morning?" Finn mumbled, tiredness edging into his voice, which sounded like a sleepy smile. "With bacon, right?"

"With bacon. And nutella. Not together, though."

"Yeah, we go together far better. Can I just have a jar of nutella and you?"

"Just me?"

"Yeah," Finn said, splaying his hand against Kurt's bare chest then leaning over to press a soft kiss to his forehead. "This one's _all_ mine."

Kurt smiled to himself, snuggling into Finn's side as he let the quiet wash over them. If Finn wanted him all to himself, he wasn't about to argue. As Finn's breathing grew deeper and heavier, Kurt replayed the evening's events in his mind. Deep down, he'd known from the moment he'd boarded the plane that even seeing Finn would have made the inconvenience and the air fare worthwhile. Deep down, he'd read some of the signs, but pushed them to the back of his mind. The following day might not be as easy as this evening, stilted conversations and the sinking feeling that he wouldn't even be able to see Finn for several months creeping in, that it would be hard enough to make this work with them still living in the same city, let alone with Kurt in New York and Finn in Ohio. Yet having waited six years to fall asleep in Finn's arms, he was happy to ignore his thoughts, just for now.

**END**

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong>

1. This was a belated birthday fic for Ambra. I hope it was worth the wait, m'dear.  
>2. Man, I've missed this pairing.<br>3. Please review, because it's been so long since I've written Kinn that I'm not sure if I did the boys justice here! Realistically, I think it would take the boys a little more to get together than this, but I was asked to write a PWP with Finn being a hot DJ, so. ;-)


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